


Interrupted Moments

by arliddian



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Fluff, Reader-Insert, Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-09
Updated: 2020-05-09
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:26:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24091309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arliddian/pseuds/arliddian
Summary: You keep hoping for an uninterrupted moment alone with Steve, but it seems the universe has other plans…Or, five times the Avengers ruin your moment with Steve, and one time they don’t.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Reader
Comments: 8
Kudos: 79





	Interrupted Moments

_ Tony _

It feels like Tony, Natasha and Bruce have been talking in circles for hours, but when you check your watch, you discover it’s only been twenty minutes. You wearily rub a hand over your face and try to stifle your yawn. The technical jargon is going way over your head, and you’re starting to question why you were included in this meeting in the first place, given your inability to make any kind of meaningful contribution to the discussion. Hacking has never been your thing.

You glance at Steve, pleased to find that he looks just as bored as you feel, with his cheek resting on his fist and his eyes glazed over. You take a moment to marvel at how beautiful he is, even when everything about his expression and posture screams 'uninterested and over it'. 

An idea suddenly strikes you, and you say his name, voice softer than a whisper so that only his enhanced hearing will pick it up. He looks your way and lowers his hand, eyes clearing as he blinks at you. 

You smile and mouth _Wanna get some coffee?_ He glances over at the other three, then back at you, and you feel a flutter in your stomach when he gives you a tiny, relieved smile and a barely perceptible nod.

“Hey, whoa, where are you two going?” Tony asks immediately when you both stand up.

“We need a break, and you don’t need us,” you tell him firmly. “So you guys keep figuring it out, and we’ll be back later.” You flash your teammates a bright smile and sweep out of the room without waiting for a response, Steve following closely behind.

As you walk together to the coffee shop at the end of the block, you bask in the combined warmth of the afternoon sun and Steve’s presence. Ever since you joined the team, you’ve sensed something between you, but there haven’t been many opportunities to explore it. One-on-one time with him is always rare, and you plan to savour this gift of an afternoon break as much as possible.

“What’s got you so cheerful?” Steve asks pleasantly as you both collect your coffees from the takeaway counter and head back out to the sidewalk. 

You take a long sip, considering what to say. “We’ve spent so much time working lately, either out in the field or in the Tower, and I just… needed a nice afternoon out,” you say at last. You look up at him, and as you gaze into those beautiful blue eyes, you can’t stop yourself from adding softly, “And I’m really glad you came with me. I like spending time with you.”

“Me too.” 

The warmth and sincerity in his deep voice sends the butterflies in your stomach into a frenzy. And when he smiles at you, soft and sweet, you can practically feel your heart expanding in your chest. A wide smile of your own spreads across your face, and you bite your lip to try and bring it under control. Is it your imagination, or does his gaze travel down to your mouth for just a second…?

The loud ring of your phone startles both of you, and you make an apologetic face as you pull it out of your pocket. The incoming call is from Tony, which doesn’t bode well.

“What’s going on, Tony?” you greet him, trying to keep the impatience from your voice.

“Where are you?”

“Getting coffee with Steve. Why?” You glance at your companion, who gives you a questioning look. You shrug in response.

“You both need to get back here and suit up,” Tony tells you. “We’ve figured out a way to disarm the defence systems remotely, but it’ll only last for a few hours, so we need to move in now.”

“Okay. We’re on our way.” You start to hang up, but Tony’s sharp “Wait!” stops you.

“What?” you ask, brow furrowed. 

“Can you pick me up a soy mocha while you’re out?”

You roll your eyes. “Bye, Tony,” you say pointedly before hanging up.

“What’s up?” Steve asks, a crease forming between his brows.

“They’ve worked out how to disarm the defence systems, but we need to go now,” you summarise as you slip your phone back into your pocket. A disappointed sigh escapes your lips before you can stop it. “So much for our nice afternoon out.”

“Another time,” he says with a small lopsided smile that makes your heart skip a beat. The words sound like a promise, and as you follow him back towards the Tower, you hope that he won’t forget it.

_ Bruce _

As far as you can tell, there are only two goons left in your area, and they’re approaching you from either side. The one on the left is up first. You take him down easily with three sharp blows to the knees, stomach and temple with your staff. From the corner of your eye, you see the other one running at you from the right, and you spin around, a few quick twists of your wrists allowing you to attack with your weapon converted to its three-section mode.

His body has just hit the floor when something hefty and solid slams into you from behind, taking you completely by surprise. Your staff is knocked from your hand and you are thrown hard to the ground. You struggle under the weight of your attacker, managing to roll onto your back just in time to grab his arm with both hands to prevent him from plunging his knife into your neck. He’s huge and strong and you’re unable to get enough leverage to throw him off you. You grit your teeth against the strain of pushing him back, but you can feel your muscles shaking, weakening. 

Then something whizzes through the air and hits your attacker hard on the side of the head, the force of the blow throwing him off you and rendering him instantly unconscious. You’d recognise that silver, red and blue anywhere: Steve’s shield.

As you catch your breath, the man himself appears in front of you, his tall and muscular frame an incredibly welcome sight. 

“Thanks,” you gasp out as he picks up his shield and replaces it on his back.

He smiles and holds a hand out to you. You clasp it gratefully and he lifts you easily to your feet. To your surprise, not only does he keep holding on once you’re standing, but he also places a steadying grasp on your upper arm with his other hand.

“Are you alright?” he asks, his concerned gaze sweeping over you.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” you reassure him with a smile, the words coming out strangely breathy. You can’t help it—you’re already a little winded from earlier, and he’s standing so close, making it hard to breathe normally or focus on anything but his piercing blue eyes and the touch of his hands.

“I thought I told you to try not to get yourself killed,” he says, raising an eyebrow. There’s a lightness in his tone and a slight curve to his lips that raises a flutter in your stomach.

“I _did_ try—these guys were just really determined,” you retort with a smirk. “You know I always follow my Captain’s orders.”

At the words 'my Captain', you feel him grip you just a little bit tighter. All of a sudden, there’s heat in his eyes and a charge in the air between you. At the look on his face, a shiver runs through your body, goosebumps break out on your skin, and you find yourself shifting closer to him almost unconsciously.

A deep, guttural roar erupts from somewhere nearby, accompanied by the unmistakeable sounds of smashing. As both of you whip around in the direction of the noise, he finally lets you go, leaving your hand and arm feeling colder from the loss of contact.

There’s another loud bellow, and you wince—you know that voice. “We weren’t expecting a Code Green, were we?” you ask, glancing over at Steve.

“No, we weren’t,” he answers tightly, fists clenching by his sides. “We’d better get over there.”

You sigh and bend to pick up your staff. “Okay.” You twist your weapon back into its single-staff form and roll your shoulders to loosen them. “Lead the way, Captain.”

_ Clint _

“What are you doing?”

Your heart gives a little jump at the sound of Steve’s voice, but you don’t turn around, too focused on spooning batter into the muffin pans. “What does it look like I’m doing?” you shoot back. 

He walks behind you, heading towards the electric kettle. “Let me rephrase: why are you baking at two in the morning?” he asks as he fills the kettle and sets it on to boil.

You glance at him just long enough to give him a small, sad half-smile. “I couldn’t sleep,” you explain softly, lowering your eyes to your mixing bowl.

He leans back against the counter. “Ah.” He doesn’t ask for clarification, and you feel a rush of gratitude for his understanding. You know you’re not the only person on the team whose past traumas frequently come alive in nightmares late at night. 

You shrug, letting the sadness fade from your face as you scrape the rest of the batter into the last paper muffin liner. “I figured I would try to turn it into something productive. At least this way I’ve got breakfast worked out.” 

“What are you making?”

“Brown butter blueberry muffins,” you say in a more cheerful tone, turning to slide the filled muffin pans into the oven. He moves over so that he’s not in your way. “And I didn’t have to make any weird ingredient substitutions this time, so they’re going to work out much better than that gluten-and-sugar-free chocolate cupcake debacle.”

He chuckles, the sound of it causing warmth to spread through your chest. “Yeah, that was… not good.”

You set the oven timer for twenty minutes, then straighten up and walk over to the sink to wash your hands. “So why are _you_ wandering around at two in the morning?” you ask curiously. 

He flashes a small, rueful smile. “I couldn’t sleep either. Thought I’d make a cup of tea.” He opens one of the cabinet doors and takes down a box of teabags and a mug. “You want one?” he offers, glancing at you over his shoulder.

You smile. “Sure.” 

Five minutes later, you’re sitting on a bar stool beside him at the island, steaming mug of tea cupped in your hands. You close your eyes and take a deep breath, inhaling the soothing scent of chamomile, humming contentedly.

When you open your eyes, you find Steve watching you. “What?” you ask self-consciously, blinking at him.

The corner of his mouth tilts up in a gorgeous little half-smile, and a flutter starts up in your stomach. “You have batter on your face,” he informs you, his voice light and amused.

You sigh and set your mug back down on the counter. “God, every time,” you mutter, reaching over to grab a tea towel from the counter. You scrub it quickly over your nose, cheeks and mouth. “Did I get it?”

“There’s still some in your eyebrow,” he says, clearly suppressing laughter. “How did you manage to do that?”

You roll your eyes in mock annoyance and throw the towel at him, which he catches easily in one hand. “Okay, a little less judgment and a little more help, please.”

As he puts his mug down, you lean slightly towards him and close your eyes. A second later, you feel him wipe the towel over your eyebrow a few times, his touch incredibly tender and gentle. You’re about to lean back when you feel the fabric slide past your temple and down your jawline, and your breath catches in your throat.

Your eyelids flutter open and immediately you find yourself drowning in the blue of his eyes. He swallows and slowly lowers the hand holding the towel, but he makes no move to lean back. All you can focus on is the striking beauty of his face, his soft and open expression. The air feels suddenly thick and syrupy and you have no doubt that he can hear the rapid pounding of your heart. 

“Hey, what smells so good?” Clint’s voice rings out into the kitchen, and you immediately turn to face forward, Steve doing the same thing beside you as he tosses the tea towel back onto the counter. “You baking again?”

“Yeah, blueberry muffins,” you answer Clint smoothly, raising your mug to your face to hide the flush that you can feel rising on your cheeks. “They’ll be done in about ten minutes.”

“I knew it was a good idea to come looking for a snack,” he grins, coming over to lean on the counter across from you.

“What are you doing up so late?” Steve asks. His tone sounds almost too casual to your ears, like he’s trying a little too hard to act normally.

“Working with Tony on some upgrades.”

As Clint begins to describe the changes he and Tony have made to his gear, you nod and smile and respond on autopilot, all the while trying to slow your heartbeat to its normal pace and mentally cursing your friend’s terrible timing.

_ Thor _

Tonight’s gala is one of Tony’s most lavish yet. If Nick Fury had told you that joining the Avengers would mean sipping champagne in chandelier-lit ballrooms on a semi-regular basis, all while wearing designer gowns paid for by Tony himself, you would have insisted on signing up much earlier.

You’ve just finished up a conversation with a couple of former S.H.I.E.L.D. agents you used to work with, and you scan the room to locate the rest of your friends. Thor is by the bar chatting away with Rhodey and a couple of other military bigwigs, and you glimpse most of the others among the crowd on the dance floor. Bruce and Natasha are deep in conversation as they dance; Tony is holding Pepper close and swaying gently with her; Maria is laughing at Clint’s exaggerated moves. 

You finally spot Steve watching the revelry from the sidelines, leaning against a pillar with his hands in his pockets. He looks stunningly handsome in his perfectly-tailored suit, and you allow yourself a few moments to appreciate the view, but you know he’s probably feeling uncomfortable and very much ready to leave. This type of scene has never been his thing.

You skirt around the edge of the room to make your way towards him, trying not to spill your drink in the process. He notices you when you’re a few feet away, and the smile that lights up his face sends your pulse into a quick staccato beat.

“Hey,” he greets you when you finally reach his side. “Having fun?”

“More than you,” you answer with a smile and a raised eyebrow. “You sure you don’t want to join everyone out there?” You tilt your head towards the couples swirling around the dance floor. “Look what a good time they’re having.”

He shakes his head and lets out a little chuckle, light and self-deprecating, and it stirs a flutter in your stomach. “You know I don’t dance.”

You shake your head and point a finger at him. “One of these days, Steve Rogers, I’m going to get you out on that dance floor. You mark my words.”

He laughs again, and your smile widens. You love that sound. You can never hear it enough. 

“You can try,” he challenges, raising an eyebrow. “But I have it on good authority that I can be pretty stubborn.”

“I’ll let you off the hook for now,” you concede, nudging him lightly. “But are you seriously just going to stand here in the corner all night?” 

He shrugs. “It’s as good a place as any to pass the time.” Glancing at you, he adds, “And if you’re planning to join me for a while, then it can only get better.” 

You feel your cheeks warming at his words and the heart-stopping smile he aims at you, and you duck your head a little to try to rein in the grin that’s spreading across your face. When you look back up at him, he’s still smiling at you. You could happily drown in his blue eyes the way they’re looking at you now, so warm and soft and full of affection. Your tongue darts out to moisten your lips, and this time you know you’re not imagining the way his gaze flickers down to your mouth.

You take a shaky breath. “Steve—”

Before you can finish, you hear someone call your name, and you tear your eyes away from Steve to find Thor striding towards you. 

“What are you doing standing over here when there is such fun to be had? Come, dance with me!” the Asgardian exclaims merrily, extending a hand to you.

“Oh, well...” you hedge, glancing between him and Steve.

Steve just gives you a small smile. “Go on,” he says, nodding towards the dance floor. “Enjoy yourself. No reason for both of us to be wallflowers all night.”

“Okay,” you say, though you’re still somewhat reluctant to leave his side. “But…” You hand him your half-full champagne flute and point at it. “I’m gonna come back for that. So don’t go anywhere.”

He chuckles. “I won’t.”

You turn to smile at Thor and take his proffered hand. “Let’s go.”

You feel Steve watching you as Thor draws you further into the crowd, and even from the middle of the dance floor, the prickle on the back of your neck and the fluttering in your stomach tell you that those blue eyes still haven’t looked away.

_ Natasha _

It’s been a long time since you’ve spent a night out with your old friends. It’s rare that you’re all available or even in the same state, having been scattered to all kinds of different jobs after the downfall of S.H.I.E.L.D., but tonight nearly everyone is in New York, and you’re all together in a bar getting pleasantly buzzed on tequila, inside jokes, and long rambles down memory lane.

You’re laughing at Anna’s recollection of your shared mission in Lisbon when your phone lights up with a message from Tony, sent to the whole team: _Maria’s got fresh intel and she thinks we can hit the next target in the next 48 hours. Let’s talk strategy in the lab—30 minute warning._ You sigh. By now, you’re used to the erratic schedule of being an Avenger, but it’s still disappointing that you always have to leave the fun early.

It takes a while to say your goodbyes because you keep getting sucked back into conversation, but you figure it’s okay—Tony’s message had an 'urgent but not life-threateningly urgent' vibe to it, and a few extra minutes surely can’t hurt. You still have to make your way back across town anyway.

When you finally manage to walk out of the bar, you’re astonished to find Steve right outside, leaning casually against his motorcycle.

“What are you doing here?” you ask, lips curving into a smile at the mere sight of him.

He shrugs and smiles back, and your heart skips a beat. “I was having a drink with Sam when I got Tony’s message,” he explains nonchalantly. “I was on my way back and figured you might need a ride.”

You tilt your head curiously. “How did you know where I was?” 

“I, uh, overheard you telling Nat where you were going tonight,” he admits, lifting a hand to rub the back of his neck. The slight bashfulness radiating off him is ridiculously endearing.

“Wow, Steve. Seems a little stalker-y,” you tease as you step towards him. “I feel like my mother warned me about men like you.”

“Men like me?” He raises an eyebrow.

“Yeah, you know—handsome men who keep tabs on you so they can show up out of nowhere on their motorcycles to convince you to go for a ride.” You flash him an openly flirtatious smile—you must have had just enough tequila to lose some of your inhibitions.

There’s a flicker of heat in his eyes as he says, “And what was the warning?”

You shrug as you pull a hair tie from your crossbody bag. “Just something about how they’ll get me into a whole lot of trouble,” you answer casually, sweeping your hair back into a ponytail. “But I’ve never been great at following her advice. So I’ll take that ride.” You flash him a smirk, and something flutters in your stomach when he smirks right back. 

You’ve ridden with Steve a few times during missions before, but now, without the threat of an imminent explosion or being shot at by an enemy, you’re able to fully appreciate how good it feels to be pressed up against his back with your arms tight around his torso. The only downside is how short the trip is—before you know it, he’s pulling into his usual spot in the garage and you’re reluctantly letting him go.

“Look at that—didn’t get you into any trouble at all,” he says with a crooked smile as you both walk into the elevator. “Just brought you home.”

“Oh, I don’t know, Steve,” you return coyly with a little smirk. “You might be a gentleman, but I feel like you could still get me into a lot of trouble.”

“Is that right?” 

Something in his deep voice has your heart pounding faster, and when you turn to him there’s an unmistakeable heat in his eyes. He’s standing very close and you can feel your entire body warming under his gaze, the air between you growing thick with tension.

“Yeah,” you murmur, unable to drag your eyes away from his face. “But I can’t say I mind.”

You lick your lips, pulling his focus to your mouth, and the energy between you seems to crackle with electricity. He starts to draw nearer, his head inclining towards yours. Your breath catches in your throat, and your eyelids flutter closed in anticipation.

There’s a loud ding and the elevator stops, shattering the moment. You manage to spring away from him just before the doors open to reveal Natasha.

You acknowledge her with a friendly “Hey,” but as she steps inside and returns your greeting, she looks curiously between you and Steve with narrowed eyes. You keep your expression as bland as possible, hoping fervently that your cheeks aren’t as flushed as they feel. You don’t dare to glance over at Steve.

The rest of the mercifully short elevator ride passes in silence, though you’re hyper-aware of the tension still hanging between you and Steve. Natasha doesn’t say anything and her face is completely impassive, but you’re sure she’s noticed it, too. 

When the elevator finally reaches the floor for the lab, Steve holds the door open, ever the gentleman. As you pass by him, you catch a fleeting glimpse of the heat still simmering in his blue eyes. It sends a shiver down your spine and a stab of regret to your gut. And as you walk into the lab, you wonder if you’ll ever get a chance at an uninterrupted moment alone with him.

_ Steve _

This last mission had gone well, but it had been hard work, leaving you mentally and physically drained. After a long, hot shower and an hour’s nap, you’re finally starting to feel like a normal human again. You pull open your door, intending to head downstairs for a cup of coffee and maybe a snack, but you have to immediately stop short to avoid colliding with Steve. He’s standing right outside your door, his hand clearly poised to knock.

“Hey,” he says a little sheepishly, moving his hand to rub the back of his neck.

“Hey,” you echo with a surprised smile. “What’s up?”

“I was just coming to see if you felt like getting out of here.” 

The hopeful look in his eyes sends warmth through your entire body. “What did you have in mind?” you ask, tilting your head.

He shrugs, flashing that crooked smile you love so much. “Just a nice afternoon out.”

Your lips stretch into a grin. “Sounds perfect,” you say, stepping forward and closing the door behind you. 

It’s a beautiful day to be outside, made all the lovelier by the fact that Steve is ambling beside you, his hands in his pockets and a relaxed smile on his lips. There’s a lightness to his demeanour that makes a marked contrast from his no-nonsense seriousness during the mission just hours earlier, and seeing it brightens your mood even further, your tiredness immediately forgotten. 

Spending time with him has always been comfortable and easy, and this time is no different, with the conversation and laughter flowing freely and effortlessly. But after all your near-misses with him these past several weeks, you notice that there’s an undercurrent of electricity running between the two of you. It brings a constant stream of butterflies to your stomach and a hyper-awareness of his proximity to you. He buys you a coffee, and when his hand grazes yours as he passes you the takeaway cup, you nearly drop it on the sidewalk. You feel the ghost of his touch on your fingers long after he’s pulled away.

With no commitments or work requiring either your or Steve’s immediate attention or return to the Tower, you keep walking, eventually finding yourselves in Bryant Park. As you sit down together at the edge of the fountain, your bodies close enough that your arm keeps brushing against his, Steve expels a tiny contented sigh. 

“You’re in a good mood,” you remark, nudging him lightly with your knee. 

He gives you a sidelong glance, a smile playing about his lips. “I’m just enjoying your company.”

You duck your head, looking down at your coffee cup as you feel your smile widening and your cheeks heating up. This afternoon is proving to be particularly delightful, and you’re very, very glad that Steve showed up at your door to ask you to come out with him.

A thought suddenly occurs to you. “Hey, Steve?” you say slowly, turning your head to look up at him.

“Yeah?”

“Is this—are we…” You bite your lip in a moment of hesitation, but the openness in his gaze prompts you to forge ahead. “Are we on a date right now?”

“Uh, well…” He sets his own cup down next to him and clears his throat, looking suddenly and adorably flustered. “Would that—I mean… Is that okay?”

A burst of happiness floods through you, mirrored by the bright smile blooming on your face. “More than okay.”

His returning smile is dazzling. “Good,” he says simply.

He holds your gaze for a long time, the look in those beautiful blue eyes giving you goosebumps and sending your heart racing. The air grows thick and syrupy, and time seems to slow down. You drink in everything about this moment: the warmth of his body next to you, the glow of the afternoon sun on his skin, the perfect curve of his lips.

“So,” you practically whisper, tongue darting out to moisten your own lips. “Are you gonna kiss me now, or what?”

Your words bring a flare of heat to his gaze. He takes your coffee cup from your hands and sets it down next to his, and then he leans in almost unbearably slowly, setting off a riot of butterflies in your stomach. His lips are hovering barely an inch away from yours when he pauses.

“What are you waiting for?” you breathe, peering at him with heavy-lidded eyes, your heart thudding with anticipation.

“Just making sure we’re not going to be interrupted this time,” he murmurs. Then he lifts his hand to your cheek and closes the gap.

His kiss is soft and sensual, his lips moving against yours slowly and deliberately. His hand slides from your cheek to the nape of your neck, drawing you closer, and you press your body against him as best you can from your position, your own fingers sliding up over his chest. It lasts for an eternal, perfect moment, and when he finally pulls back and rests his forehead against yours, you’re breathless and dizzy.

“We should probably go,” he says softly.

Your eyelids flutter open and you stare at him, confused. “What? Why?”

He gives you a wry smile. “I can hear that group of girls at our ten o’clock arguing about whether they’ve just spotted Captain America, and they’re about ten seconds away from trying to get a closer look.”

You glance over and sure enough, there’s a cluster of teenagers standing several yards away, all of whom are trying their best not to look conspicuous as they squint at Steve. You sigh and reluctantly stand up, dusting yourself off as he gets up and retrieves the coffee cups.

“I just can’t seem to get a moment alone with you,” you say ruefully, taking your drink from him.

“Oh, I can think of a couple of places in the Tower where we can be alone,” he replies with a little smirk, a suggestive edge creeping into his deep voice. Your eyebrows shoot up in response, and a delighted grin spreads across your face. 

“Well then, by all means,” you say playfully, reaching out to lace your fingers through his. “Lead the way, Captain.”

He smiles that beautiful lopsided smile, and then he strides off quickly in the direction of the Tower, your laughter ringing out as he tugs you along behind him. After such a lovely afternoon out, it seems that he’s just as eager as you are to have a nice evening in, alone and uninterrupted at last.


End file.
